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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27242236">The Ex</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazoobard/pseuds/kazoobard'>kazoobard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Brad x Rory Mythic Quest Universe [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mythic Quest, Space Force</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, M/M, multifandom - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:08:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,280</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27242236</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazoobard/pseuds/kazoobard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Brad’s ex boyfriend comes back into his life. Brad is less than happy about it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brad Bakshi/F. Tony Scarapiducci (flashback), Brad Bakshi/Rory Bakshi (OC)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Brad x Rory Mythic Quest Universe [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964773</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Ex</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Fuck Tony is a character from Space Force, you don’t have to watch Space Force to understand this fic but it helps</p><p>EDIT: pudi twt just found this nobody look at me</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>2010</p><p>Brad’s sheets are silk. His mattress is impossibly soft, and his pillows are hundreds of dollars. His bed is the perfect sanctuary away from his shitty-ass job and his shitty-ass life, and yet he can’t enjoy it.</p><p>F. Tony Scarapiducci is in bed next to him, and he will not shut the fuck up. He’s prattling off about some PR bullshit, talking about clients and meetings and Twitter. Brad wishes he could enjoy Tony’s mussed hair, his bare chest, but he’s starting to discover– or, more accurately, rediscover– that he was only able to appreciate those things in the first place because it’s hard for Fuck Tony to talk when Brad’s tongue is down his throat.</p><p>Tony takes a breath, and Brad thinks he might have achieved some respite, but he’s only ramping up to more. “So then Hannah made fun of my fucking ankle holster, which was so ridiculous because–“</p><p>“Fu– Tony.” The talking doesn’t stop. “Tony!”</p><p>Tony scoots closer to Brad, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, what’s up?”</p><p>“Tony–“</p><p>“You wanna fuck again?”</p><p>“Get out of my house.”</p><p>“Right.” Fuck Tony scrambles away, reaching for his pants. “See you Tuesday?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Cool, I’ll bring the beer.”</p><p>Brad rolls over, burying his face in his pillow. “Bring wine, you’re a fucking adult.”</p><p>“Can’t afford wine, you’re getting beer!”</p><p> </p><p>2013</p><p>There’s no blowout fight. There’s no long, rambling voicemails. There’s nothing. Brad meets someone else and falls in love, and it just... ends. He hears from a friend of a friend that Tony never shook the nickname, and he started having semi-regular hate sex with that Hannah Howard woman he never shut up about. Brad’s happy for him. But Fuck Tony is out of his life, so he’s mostly just happy for himself.</p><p>2020</p><p>Brad is very pleased with himself.</p><p>He strides through the building at top speed, trying to control his grin. Quick footsteps approach, and a sharp pressure slams against his shoulder.</p><p>Brad whips around. “David! Jesus!”</p><p>“We need to talk. Now.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“You have to. Jacking up prices like that for certain users wasn’t cool. You caused a PR nightmare.”</p><p>“Okay, thank you, David.”</p><p>You did something fucked up, Brad, and MQ’s suffering for it. Sue can’t deal with this on her own. We had to bring someone in to handle it.”</p><p>“What the hell are you talking about?”</p><p>“We had to bring in a PR representative from the outside. And you are going to work with him.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Yes. He’s from the government, he’s good. Hasn’t worked in the private sector for a few years.”</p><p>“That doesn’t mean anything.”</p><p>They’re rounding the corner now, and Brad’s eyes lock on the meeting room. And there he is, folded into a chair, making Ian laugh. Brad stops in his tracks.</p><p>“Shit.”</p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>Brad turns sharply on his heel, fishing his phone out of his bag. David’s running after him, breathing heavily after only a couple of steps. “Brad! Brad, what’s wrong?”</p><p>Brad yanks the door open. “I’m locking myself in my office.”</p><p>“Our office– You can’t– I need to get in there!”</p><p>Brad’s already closing and locking the door. He lifts his phone to his ear, pacing, muttering under his breath. “Pick up pick up fucking pick up–“</p><p>Rory’s voice is tinny through the phone, but no less alluring and teasing. “Miss me, Bakshi?”</p><p>Brad digs his heel into the ground, trying not to engage with his husband’s flirting. “Fuck Tony’s here.”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“Fuck Tony, the guy I was seeing before we–“</p><p>“Oh, the one with a firm grasp on your dick?”</p><p>Brad glances toward the office window to see David tapping the glass, talking unintelligibly. Brad’s grateful he locked him out.</p><p>“Don’t say that,” Brad mumbles.</p><p>“Don’t deny it. That little fucker had you whipped before I did.” Rory pauses. “Wait, do I have anything to worry about?”</p><p>Brad smiles slightly. “You know you don’t.”</p><p>“I know. I just like hearing you say it.”</p><p>“Can we focus, please?”</p><p>“Yeah, of course. To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing you say the word ‘fuck’ into the phone at ten in the morning?”</p><p>“I’m calling because F. Tony is the worst fucking–“ Rory hums into the phone. “Babe, please. We can flirt when I’m not in a crisis.”</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>“He’s the worst person on the planet and I don’t know how to handle that without strangling him.”</p><p>“Was there a lot of strangling involved?”</p><p>“That’s not funny.”</p><p>“Yes it is.”</p><p>David slams the glass with his palm and mouths, “Meeting. Now.”</p><p>————</p><p>Brad can’t focus.</p><p>Fuck Tony is staring at him, a lopsided, obnoxious grin on his face. He’s leaned back in his seat, one leg folded over the other. David’s voice is a steady drone, annoying and boring. Every second feels like an hour. Brad thinks he may die here.</p><p>F. Tony nods, talking to David, still staring at Brad. “Alright, sounds good.”</p><p>Brad startles, looking around. Everyone is standing up to leave. Brad stands as fast as possible, yanking the boardroom door open. Tony jogs after him, so Brad walks faster.</p><p>“Brad? Brad! It’s me, Tony, do you remember me?”</p><p>Brad picks up his pace to a light jog, reaching out to pull on his office door. He tries to slam it in Tony’s face, but he manages to slide in, grinning the entire time. “Hey, Brad. It’s been a while.”</p><p>“Yeah, it has. What are you doing in my office?”</p><p>“Didn’t you hear Daniel?”</p><p>“David.”</p><p>“Yeah, either one. He said we’re working together today. Isn’t that fun?”</p><p>Brad takes a deep breath.</p><p>F. Tony hops up to sit on Brad’s desk. “I’m looking forward to working with you, man.”</p><p>“Sure, whatever.”</p><p>“Y’know, because we used to fuck–“</p><p>“Thank you, Tony. Jesus.”</p><p>Fuck Tony’s grin is immobile, and irritating. Some things never change. His eyes wander down to Brad’s hands, and his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. “Holy shit, look at that ring. You still with the, uh, hot short one?”</p><p>“He’s not short. And yes.”</p><p>“Tying the knot, I see how it is. Y’know, I’d love to formally meet the man who singlehandedly ended your slut phase.”</p><p>Brad groans, collapsing into his desk chair. “I hate you so much.”</p><p>“What was his name, uh... Paul? Was it Paul?”</p><p>“Super close.”</p><p>“Awesome.”</p><p>Tony’s grin dissipates. “What’s going on here? I thought you’d be happy to see me.”</p><p>“Why would you think I’d be happy to see you? We were having sex. That’s over. There’s nothing left.”</p><p>“Well... yeah, but... I always enjoyed spending time with you. You’re fucking evil, man, it was fun. And what you’ve done with Mythic Quest? I’ve played it, microtransactions at every turn? I mean, you’re a genius.”</p><p>Brad groans. “I want this to be over as soon as possible, what are you doing here? Helping me draft some– some kind of lame apology for Twitter? Let’s just do it, so we can get it done.”</p><p>Tony’s brow furrows. “No. No, c’mon, talk to me. We can be friends now. No ulterior motives. Y’know, I’m– I’m a real adult now. I can afford wine.”</p><p>“If I was doing my job right, you wouldn’t be able to afford wine.” Brad looks up– Tony’s staring at him hopefully. “Alright. Alright, fine. I– I maybe didn’t give you a fair chance when we were seeing each other. And I know you are capable of some weird manipulative bullshit. I respect that.”</p><p>F. Tony wiggles in his seat a bit. His grin is back, full-force. “So that means...”</p><p>“Fuck Tony Scarapiducci,” Brad says, rolling his eyes, “Would you like to help me bleed Mythic Quest players dry?”</p><p>“Hell yeah I would.”</p>
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